The red carpets, the designer outfits, the insufferable sycophancy, the fake smiles, the asinine and unobtrusive interviews, the vomit-inducing teary speeches – I am not referring to another day at the Samuel Alito confirmation hearings (though I could be). No, something far more important to everyday Americans than who presides over the Supreme Court and holds their very constitutional fates in his hands. Awards Season is upon us. ffice I have no time for those silly Awards shows. The few times they are ever interesting (Jarvis at the Brits, Michael Moore at the Oscars), the establishment dismisses them for distracting them from the arse-kissing reality of showbiz. The first Awards of the season kicked off last week with the Critic’s Choice, followed by the ‘voted-for-by-the-public’ People’s Choice. To my horror, this huge ffice:smarttags" /> Last night, my wife sat down to watch the Golden Globes. It’s a bit like the Baftas in that it includes TV shows, and is second in prestige only to the Oscars, which will not be hitting our screens until March. It’s looking like it’ll be a good year for the ‘gay cowboy movie’, aka Anyway, before the Golden Globes began, we caught the news, and they revealed who had won some of the awards. I was dumbfounded – surely the show was going to be live? It is in All this only fuels my dream of an independent
Week Sixteen: Awards Season
ffice" />
17.1.06 23:36
powered by
20six.co.uk
